


Potions, Babies, and Lovable Grins

by ichor (sbzpruiosnejre)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbzpruiosnejre/pseuds/ichor
Summary: Lily Potter is a potioneer, a wife, a mother - figuring out priorities might not be easy, but she's trying to make it work.





	Potions, Babies, and Lovable Grins

"Thanks, Mrs Potter," mumbles a shabby-looking wizard as he takes a corked potion bottle from the table. "'S'relief, you got no idea." He ambles away without waiting for a reply.

Brushing back her hair, Lily smiles brightly as the next witch steps forward.

It's not especially active work, manning the table and greeting them, but it brings her more joy than any other work. It's not profitable either, she classes it more under Order work, though really it's volunteering. It was Remus' idea, one she hasn't stopped since he went undercover with Greyback's pack. Ever since Damocles Belby successfully patented the Wolfsbane Potion, werewolves across the British Isles have had  _hope_. The potion being so difficult to brew correctly is the first obstacle. The second: attitudes towards werewolves, and the keen disinterest in not providing to them their lifeline.

 _I think I can make this_ , she'd told Moony that first time, poring over the instructions and pondering the best way to go about it. A few attempts in, she'd found success, at least so far as the end product was meant to be. They'd been freshly graduated, her engagement to James even fresher, and Remus was worried about how to handle his transformations. 'I can't rely on everybody to keep me in check,' he had said, and that's what had pushed her to solve his problem.

That first full moon had meant everything to him.

In the morning, he'd burst in with James, barely past dawn. 'It worked!' he'd declared, while she was still waking up, a mug of coffee warming her hands. She'd never seen Remus look so happy, so full of hope.

The following year, he'd asked if she could make an extra potion for a friend. With the wolfsbane potion brewed for him each moon, his misery around the week was so much less, and she'd readily agreed to help another werewolf. Not a friend, exactly, but one of the werewolves he'd started regular contact with. Unable to get her own source, Remus had checked with Lily before volunteering a way for her. And that was how it started.

By autumn of 1979, they'd managed to figure out a few things. Firstly, the approximate numbers of werewolves that had access to Diagon Alley and its splinter street of Knockturn. Then, how possible it was to brew enough potions for that number (it started as five), especially factoring in the cost of ingredients. James had helped there, already handling the costs for Remus. Finally, how to get the word out.

So far, she's counted seven werewolves stopping by the stall in a dingy corner of Knockturn Alley. She's never alone - one of them, a squib called Tavish, works in the betting shop only a few metres away and always keeps an eye out for her - and she's always safe.

In the gaps between 'customers', she misses Remus' company. They'd do crosswords together, read books, discuss current events and, in the first few months of her pregnancy, talk about the future. She always said he'd be the best second godfather they could ask for. He'd disagreed because of  _what_ he is, not  _who_ he is.

"Hi, Gale," Lily says, setting two bottles across to the edge of the table. "How's Orin doing?"

The witch manages a slight smile, a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Not very well." There's a reluctance there to admit such a thing, but Gale has been there since the very start. There's trust. And unnecessary coins that end up exchanged because Gale never allows her to give them back. "I think it's best that he doesn't go to school."

"I promise, Dumbledore was  _extremely_ helpful with Remus, he--"

She shakes her head sadly. "It isn't that I don't think they can help him. I don't think  _Orin_ is ready for it." The girl in front of her, barely older than seven, looks the very picture of upset.

"Has something happened?" Lily frowns, rising from the foldaway chair.

"He's just finding it very difficult adjusting to... what he is."

Now where has she heard that before?

"I wish I could do something to help," she says softly. "There isn't enough support out there."

Gale's anguish comes through in her voice. "There isn't  _any_ support out there! I've tried, I've looked everywhere. Oh, Lily... this is the only place we've ever found somebody who cares. But... perhaps it's the potion that doesn't help. Ever since Orin started taking it, he's been so upset. Aloe takes it far better."

"It's difficult to be aware of what's happening on those nights, especially after getting used to being helpless." She's parroting Remus' advice, the best she can offer. "Unfortunately the effectiveness of Dreamless Sleep seems to be very weak for werewolves. And knowing it will never end can be even more difficult. Hogwarts would give him a distraction from that. Adventure and schoolwork to tire him out, to keep him busy. Remus said mental stimulation was the best counter for his struggles."

Not even Elixir to Induce Euphoria could benefit those so afflicted with depression. Nor would she ever suggest it. There had to be other ways of helping Gale's children.

But the silence she receives isn't hopeful.

"Give it another month?" Lily suggests instead.

Gale leaves with the two lots of potions and with a quiet agreement.

* * *

Opening the front door, Lily heaves a sigh as she begins to take off her coat. She couldn't help Gale and her poor kids, and Laurel didn't show up at all. If there's one thing she's learned, it's that a regular suddenly not showing up means bad news. Merlin, she hopes she's alright. Even if that means getting involved in the wrong pack. The last thing she'd wish on anybody is one of the rough wix from the Werewolf Capture Unit prowling after them. 

A small shape appears from the kitchen, toddling a few steps into the hallway.

"Hey there," she smiles, hanging up her coat. "Can you make it all the way here?"

Harry burbles, not making a lick of sense as he waddles further. James stands behind him, watching with that lovable grin plastered across his face.

Lily crouches down, hands on her knees. "That's it - almost there!" He's going to fall, or trip, or tumble, she's sure of it, but the carpet's been enchanted with a cushioning charm ever since he started taking his first steps.

Pausing, he gives an unbalanced wobble. His next step is slower, deliberate. "Mama!"

She reaches for him as step by step, he manages it. Her fingers curve around his blue onesie, decorated in golden snitches buzzing across the fabric, and she pulls him close. "You did it, Harry! Well done!" A horrible wetness touches her eyelashes. She blinks rapidly, hugging him against her chest as James walks over. "That's the furthest he's walked yet, isn't it?" His nod of agreement makes her want to weep for joy.

No matter what, coming home to the two scruffy-haired boys in her life will always make up for a difficult day.

 


End file.
